


The Only One

by ScarletteStar1



Series: Attraction Redaction [2]
Category: Homeland
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 20:02:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Summary: “You like getting what you want, don’t you, Mr. Berenson?”“Yes,” his voice felt like sandpaper.“Me too,” she said, unbuckling his belt.“Stop it,” he growled, and to his surprise, as soon as she released his belt and dragged it out of its loops, she did. She held it up to him. Mouth agape, he stared at her.“Use it,” she whispered. Her face lost all of its playfulness and was serious. “On me.”
Relationships: Saul Berenson/Carrie Matthison
Series: Attraction Redaction [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2212269
Comments: 2





	The Only One

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags... don't like it, don't read it. xo

She arrived exhausted and frazzled. He didn’t so much let her in as he stood back and allowed her presence to flood the room. The edges of her anxiety pierced his typically steel shell.

“Tell me,” he said, but she paced and her words seemed gibberish. “Carrie, you’ve gotta calm down. Did she make you?”

This pulled her up short. “What? No, of course not.”

Her indignation almost made him laugh. “Tell me everything. Come on, Carrie,” he insisted.

“Fuck, _fuckfuckfuck_!” She seemed incapable of giving him any information other than that one syllable. He suggested they order food, have a drink (or seven) and try to relax so she could give him all the details.

It was a nice enough room. Actually, it was more than nice, if he was honest. He didn’t typically book such posh rooms for clandestine meetings with assets he ran for off book operations. He rationalized it made sense to get this place because it was far enough away and discreet. Later, he’d wonder about his indulgence. She asked if they could eat in the restaurant and he said it probably wasn’t a great idea.

“But the room service menu looks adequate. What do you like?”

“Mini bar?” She asked and he pointed to the cabinet. He watched her guzzle two nips of vodka without skipping a beat.

“You gonna tell me what’s got you so flustered?” He winced at how gruff his own voice sounded. Of course she wouldn’t tell him. He approached her and saw the distraught look in her eyes, panic mixed with pain. For a moment, he’d forgotten how young she was. Her eyes had an ethereal, ageless quality about them and damned if he could qualify what color they were. He made a note to look in her file back at Langley to see what they had them listed as. “Carrie, come on,” he said, just a little softer and put a hand on her wrist. She still held the empty nip bottle and he gently extracted it from her hand.

“Saul,” she said. She didn’t so much focus on his gaze as fall into it. Her chin quivered. “It was awful. I left to make a call and when I came back, she’d been shot. There was nothing I could do.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled. No wonder the kid was so shaken. She hadn’t been long on the game, and he’d trusted her in a particularly precarious play. Time and again, she’d proved herself to him. And each time, he’d thought, _She’s the one. The one I’ve been waiting for._ It wasn’t like him to forget an asset's vulnerabilities and weak spots. He wasn’t even aware Carrie had a single one. She’d done two tours in the Middle East. She had fucking diamond hard nerves. But when you’re working a source, you form connections. It was inevitable.

They ordered food and a couple nice bottles of wine. He liked red. She preferred white. She drank quickly and cleanly and caught him regarding her. “Don’t judge,” she sighed and offered him a bleary smile.

“I need details before they fade. I need to know what she said.”

“Oh, I’ll tell you what she said,” Carrie giggled and rolled her eyes in a manner that was so bratty, Saul forgot his earlier temptation toward compassion. She was drunk and saucy and he was fucking pissed. How on earth had he allowed this to happen. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of her chair.

“This is not how we do business,” he growled close to her ear and the musky blend of her vanilla perfume mixed with the onion and garlic butter of her steak and the sharp tang of the alcohol on her breath practically enraged him. He twisted her arm behind her back and realized his other hand was on her neck, not squeezing or choking her exactly, but definitely attempting to show her who was boss. His eyes dragged from his hand to her eyes and found her pupils blown wide open, her indiscriminate eyes nearly black with lust. “Goddammit Carrie.”

“Yeah?” She breathed hot, heavy gusts. “Is _this_ how we do business then?” She wiggled her body closer to his and stared defiantly. He brushed his thumb, up and down, over the cartilage of her throat and she mewed softly. Without even realizing it, he’d released her wrist and brought his other hand up to encircle her neck. He watched her tongue dart out of her mouth to wet her lips and realized he was completely lost. “You’ve done this before? Conducted business meetings like this before?” She did not hide her salacious undertone.

“No,” he said shakily. “Never,” but even as he said it, he walked her back toward the bed and shoved her down onto it. He towered over her, pinned her shoulders against the mattress and just looked at her as he contemplated his next play. As he leaned over her, lost in contemplation, she hooked her fingers over the edge of his belt and pulled his waist against hers.

“You like getting what you want, don’t you, Mr. Berenson?”

“Yes,” his voice felt like sandpaper in his throat.

“Me too,” she said so close to his ear the heat of her breath momentarily distracted him from the fact she was unbuckling his belt.

“Stop it,” he growled, and to his surprise, as soon as she released his belt and dragged it out of its loops, she did. She held it up to him. Mouth agape, he stood and stared at her.

“Use it,” she whispered. Her face lost all of its playfulness and was serious. “On me.”

“What?” He gasped. Carrie rolled over onto her hands and knees, hitched her dress up and pulled her stockings and underpants down to the middle of her thighs so her perfect white ass protruded from all the black silk like a dollop of cream. She rested her head to the side and looked at him, almost dreamily. He stood, holding his belt, twitching with something between panicked shock and explosive arousal. “You want me to. . .?”

She nodded. “Please? I need it,” she whined.

“Carrie, I am sorry I lost my temper, but I am not going to beat you with my belt.”

“You hand then,” she said airily. Now it looked like she blinked back tears. “Please, Saul, I need it. It’s the only thing that helps. Give me ten.”

He took a step toward the bed and hesitantly cupped her pretty ass with his enormous hand. Instantly, he was hard as a teenager. His mind went almost completely blank, but for the sensation of her silky flesh. “Not like this,” he grumbled and she whimpered with disappointment before he could say, “over my lap. And take off your dress and stockings.” Eagerly, she complied with his instructions as he seated himself on the edge of the bed. With a sly, kittenish glance back at him, she situated herself on her stomach across his lap. He’d never done anything like this before. When the first _whap_ of his hand on her skin sounded in the room, he was more surprised than anything. He swallowed and looked at her face to see if she was alright.

“Harder,” she said. He struck again, this time with more force. Again she asked for him to go harder. His third strike was decidedly hard and she grunted a little at the impact and then sighed, “Yeah.” Her satisfied noises urged him to continue in a similar fashion. After the fifth strike, he paused to gently caress the red welts he’d left on her cheeks. She wiggled and moaned at his touch and begged for more.

There was no way in hell she could ignore the enormous erection he had, as it was pressed against her stomach. Every time he struck her, she managed to rub against it, giving it an exquisite friction and pressure. He couldn’t figure why this aroused him, but it was like nothing he’d ever felt. He slowed in his spanking as he got up to eight, taking his time to stroke her ass and upper thighs for a while in between each time. He wasn’t ready for it to be over. His hand burned from connecting with her skin, and he knew he’d need to wrap it around his cock as soon as he was done. It was torture. It was ecstasy. He was lost.

Without thinking, he’d slipped his fingers between her legs and found she was sopping wet, slippery and hot. Without realizing, he groaned when he felt her. The sound of his voice woke him from his trance and he was instantly annoyed at the situation in which he found himself. What had he done? This was _Carrie_ he had over his lap. _Carrie_ , who’s ass he’d turned scarlet with his own hands.

“Two more,” Carrie gasped, turning her head back to look at him. “You owe me two more to make ten.”

“Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth. It horrified him, but he was still hard as a statue and the complete need with which she asked twisted something inside him. “Ask nicely,” he demanded.

“Please. Please. _Please, Daddy_. Spank me. Help me be good again. I _need_ it so bad.” She asked for her penance in a calm, plaintive voice. He didn’t understand any of it, but he knew it had to be done so he gave her that for which she asked.

_Nine!_

_Ten!_

“Aaahh!” She cried, after the final strike which was most certainly the hardest. He indulged himself after in lightly touching her reddened skin, in drifting between her legs where she was so slick. His fingers slid into her with barely any resistance at all. “Oh, oh god _oh god,_ ” she cried and pumped her little bum up and down over his lap, fucking his fingers. He felt she was about to cum and he pulled his hand away. She sprang up and straddled his lap. “Please, please,” she begged and clung to his neck while she kissed his face. He managed to get a hand between them to undo his pants and free his dick, which she quickly took into her own hand. She glanced at him with a moment’s surprise when she felt its length and girth, but then smiled lustily and began to angle it at her entrance.

But Saul wasn’t about to give up control now. He pushed Carrie back onto the pillows, stripped himself of his clothes and climbed over her. Kneeing open her legs, he watched her shiver with thrill. She gave him a little nod and he entered her. He was huge and she was tight, so he had to go slower than he wanted, but it allowed him to feel every heated centimeter of her. When he was safely inside her, he took her wrists and pinned them above her head. She gazed up at him with an appreciative sigh.

She was perfect. She was incredible. She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him into her and she came hard and fast before he’d even started truly thrusting. It felt unreal, like she was cumming the entire time he was fucking her. Her orgasms pulsated around him like warm waves and he floated away on them until he couldn’t even remember his name. It was relief. There was no death or violence. There were no lies. There was only Carrie, climaxing in glorious spirals, dragging him out to a place beyond anything he’d ever known.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he panted and let go of her wrists in case he needed his hands elsewhere. “Where should I, uh, finish?”

“Wherever you want,” Carrie answered and squeezed around him.

“You sure?” He asked and she nodded so he worked his way up to the pinnacle in a series of slow, steady strokes. He was pleasantly surprised with how long he’d managed to last, but he knew his release was going to be incredible. _God, if he could hold off just a little longer_. . . He paused and looked down to find her gazing up at him with huge, glossy eyes.

“Come on, Daddy, fill me up,” she whispered and ghosted his back with her hands. He grunted and gave a rough thrust into her. Her words had a curious effect on him.

“Say that again,” he ordered.

“Fuck me hard, _Daddy,_ ” she teased and he snapped his hips back so he could pound back into her. “That’s it, Daddy. _Harder_. Cum for me.” She pressed her fingers into the flesh of his back and he felt her nails dig slightly into him. While he wanted to go slow and edge himself up and back down the way he liked, he also just wanted to fuck her savagely. He’d never taken anyone like this before. He’d never cum this hard or this much, never felt himself swell and explode in endless hot spasms, never gushed with so much cum that it felt like it would never end.

She started speaking almost the moment he rolled off of her. “What?” He hadn’t even caught his breath.

“She said she didn’t have any details on the Russians, but there were three other names she gave me. Potential sources.”

“Jesus, Carrie,” Saul muttered. “Did you write them down?”

“Of course I didn’t fucking write them down. What do you think I am, a green bean?” Carrie scoffed. “I memorized them.”

“Unbelievable,” Saul said. He rolled over and looked at her. She was calm, collected, sarcastic, maybe even almost sober. It was like they weren’t even lying there naked after what just happened. As if reading his thoughts, Carrie snuggled up to him with a cheeky smile.

“So, do you work all your assets like this?” She asked.

“No. Never.” He sighed. He wasn’t sure if he felt flooded with shame and regret, or if he felt puffed up with vigor and pride.

“Come on. You did that like a pro. I mean, I’ve paid people for spankings like that.”

“What? Shit, Carrie. You have?”

“Needs must,” she said and sounded pensive, if not sad. “But really, you can tell me, how many girls have you done that with?”

Saul looked down on her upturned face and at that moment, he decided her eyes were gray, like fog and ambiguity and every other mysterious thing about her. “None,” he said softly. “You’re the only one.”


End file.
